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Pax in nomine Domini
Fetz Marcabrus los motz e·l so.
Aujatz que di:
Cum nos a fait, per sa doussor,
Lo Seingnorius celestiaus
Probet de nos un lavador,
C'anc, fors outramar, no·n fon taus,
En de lai deves Josaphas:
E d'aquest de sai vos conort.

Lavar de ser e de maiti
Nos deuriam, segon razo,
Ie·us o afi.
Chascus a del lavar legor!
Domentre qu'el es sas e saus,
Deuri' anar al lavador,
Que·ns es verais medicinaus!
Que s'abans anam a la mort,
D'aut en sus aurem alberc bas.

Mas Escarsedatz e No-fes
Part Joven de son compaigno.
Ai cals dols es,
Que tuich volon lai li plusor,
Don lo gazaings es enfernaus
S'anz non correm al lavador
C'ajam la boca ni·ls huoills claus,
Non i a un d'orguoill tant gras
C'al morir non trob contrafort.

Que·l Seigner que sap tot quant es
E sap tot quant er e c'anc fo,
Nos i promes
Honor e nom d'emperador.
E·il beutatz sera, --sabetz caus--
De cels qu'iran al lavador
Plus que l'estela gauzignaus!
Ab sol que vengem Dieu del tort
Que·ill fan sai, e lai vas Domas.

Probet del lignatge Cai,
Del primeiran home felho,
A tans aissi
C'us a Dieu non porta honor!
Veirem qui·ll er amics coraus!
C'ab la vertut del lavador
Nos sera Jhezus comunaus!
E tornem los garssos atras
Qu'en agur crezon et en sort

E·il luxurios corna-vi,
Coita-disnar, bufa-tizo,
Remanran inz el felpidor!
Dieus vol los arditz e·ls suaus
Assajar a son lavador!
E cil gaitaran los ostaus!
E trobaran fort contrafort,
So per qu'ieu a lor anta·ls chas.

En Espaigna, sai, lo Marques
E cill del temple Salamo
Sofron lo pes
E·l fais de l'orguoill paganor,
Per que Jovens cuoill avol laus.
E·l critz per aquest lavador
Versa sobre·ls plus rics captaus
Fraitz, faillitz, de proeza las,
Que non amon Joi ni Deport.

Desnaturat son li Frances,
Si de l'afar Dieu dizon no,
Qu'ie·us ai comes.
Antiocha, Pretz e Valor
Sai plora Guiana e Peitaus.
Dieus, Seigner, al tieu lavador
L'arma del comte met en paus:
E sai gart Peitieus e Niort
Lo Seigner qui ressors del vas!

Pax in nomine Domini!
Marcabru wrote the lyrics and the tune.
Listen to what he says:
just as, out of his kindness, he made us,
the heavenly lord
provided us with a lavoir
such as there never was another, except overseas,
around Jehoshaphat:
and it is from the one here that I urge you.

We should wash morning
and evening, according to reason,
I assure you,
and everyone has leisure to wash!
While he is alive and well,
everyone should go to the lavoir,
which is a real elixir of health,
for if we die before [we do],
instead of up high, we will have dwellings deep down.

But Ill Will and Faithlessness
separate Youth from its companion.
Alas! What a pain it is
that most fly where
the reward is an infernal one!
If we don't run to the lavoir
before our mouth and eyes are closed,
there is no man so swollen with pride
that he doesn't find his match in Death.

For our lord, who knows all that is
and all that has been and was
has promised us
honour in the name of the emperor.
And–You know what?–beauty will be
upon those who go to the lavoir,
more than upon the Morning Star,
if we avenge the wrong made to god
here and there, around Damascus.

Granted, of the race of Cain,
of that first felonious man,
here are many,
none of which honours god.
We'll see who is his good friend
because by virtue of the lavoir,
Jesus will be with us all.
And let's chase away from us the dark scoundrels
who believe in omens and spells.

And those lustful wine guzzlers,
meal devourers, ember blowers,
sitters upon the path
will remain in the filth.
God wants to test the daring
and the kind in his lavoir:
and those will watch their houses!
And they will find a strong opponent
because of which, to their shame, I drive them away.

In Spain, here, the Marquess
and those of Solomon's Temple
suffer the burden
and the joke of the pagans' pride,
so that Youth receives bad praise
and the blame, because of this lavoir,
falls upon the most powerful lords,
broken, failing, empty of prowess,
who like neither joy nor disport.

The French are degenerates
if they refuse to support God,
for I have exhorted them.
Antioch and, on this side, Guiana
and Poitou cry for Virtue and Valour.
God, lord, in your lavoir,
give peace to the soul of the count:
and, here, may the lord who rose from the grave
guard Poitiers and Niort!

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